Romance
by ILiveInSuffragetteCity
Summary: A one-shot, post war. Harry and Ron are so busy being heroes they forget something, just a little something, but it pushes Hermione over the edge. So far over, she agrees to follow an anonomous note and meet a stranger at the room of requirement.


**Hello all! This is just a little one-shot, based on a day dream I had when a rather lovely violinist played a piece called Romance at a choir concert. If anyone did their Grade 4 a couple of years ago, you might know it! If not, it has very little bearing on the story - it was just a bit of inspiration. I'll shut up nowand let you read it. Reviews are greatly appreciated, regardless of whether you love it or loathe it. Thank you xxx**

**P.s - I know Snape is here, even though it's after the final battle, but I love him to much for him to be dead and he fits so well into everything.  
**

**Romance**

Hermione Granger could take no more. She was sick of heroics. They had won the war – that should have created a return to normality. Instead, she was stuck with a bunch of teenagers who fancied themselves as legendary characters mere weeks after the final battle. Harry and Ron were lapping up the glory, especially now there would be no repercussions. And they forgot things.

Nothing majorly important. A mate's night out here and there. A study session she had planned to help them finish work they hadn't bothered to do. Little things. Hermione believed they would snap out of it eventually, or she would snap. But eventually is a long time. She snapped exactly four months, two weeks and three days after the final battle.

It was an ordinary Tuesday morning for Hogwarts. Students woke up, dressed, ate breakfast, and then went to lessons. Harry and Ron did that, as they always did. Hermione, however, woke up full of excitement. She raced into the common room, expecting to see her best friends there, possibly with something special for her. Instead, she was greeted by swarms of first years asking her if she really was Hermione Granger. She ran back to her room, locked the door and sobbed into her duvet.

The potions class was silent, Professor Snape patrolling the lines of cauldrons, when Hermione walked in, half an hour late.

"I hope you have a good explanation for your lateness." He drawled at her.

"No, Professor." She bit her lip, waiting for the inevitable comments. She was not disappointed. He had been desperate for the opportunity.

"Just because the wizarding world is in awe of you and your companions, you do not receive any special privileges within these castle walls. 100 points from Gryffindor and if your work is not perfect, you can expect a detention." Defeating the darkest wizard known to man evidently had no effect on Snape. Hermione went silently to a vacant seat and began working, quickening her pace so she could avoid detention. The pace was quite therapeutic and it meant she didn't have to look at her 'friends', who continually tried to grab her attention. She ignored them with a cold hostility.

The lesson finished. Hermione's work was perfect as ever, even Snape grudgingly admitted it. As soon as the bell went, Hermione raced from the room. She knew Harry would ask where she was and she couldn't tell him how pathetic she had been. She ducked into an alcove, leaning against the cold brick wall. Composure. That was what she needed. She took a few deep breaths, tucked her hair behind her ears and walked into the hustle and bustle of lesson change at Hogwarts. And right into Draco Malfoy as well. Her day was getting better by the second.

"Watch where you are going, Granger." He spat out her name, making it sound as filthy as the insult he used to use. Calling a Muggle-Born a Mudblood was now an official offense. The cold glare he used especially for her conveyed the intent better than any word could though. Except lately, it seemed to soften when she met his gaze.

"Just get lost Malfoy." Hermione wanted to run and hide. She needed to get away from those hard grey eyes.

"What are you going to do to me Granger? Hex me? Oh wait. You can't. Damn those stringent rules that make sure under-eighteens can only cast spells in classrooms. A classic example of Ministry idiocy." He walked closer to her, making her heart skip a beat. "Basically, Granger, you are defenceless." She could have sworn his breathing quickened at the proximity, but she was too annoyed to give a damn about details.

"Don't test me Malfoy." Harry and Ron turned the corner and saw Hermione. They ran forward, wands in hands. Here come the damn heroes. They care when she's the damsel in distress. They care when they can save someone and be celebrated even more than bloody usual. She snapped. Brown eyes met silver, seconds before Draco was thrown across the corridor. "Today Malfoy, I can cast spells. I can throw you across the halls today, because today, I turned eighteen." She shouted at him and the now silent corridor. She watched him slip out of consciousness then walked off, leaving Harry and Ron with a look that was as dangerous as the hex she had just used on Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy woke up in his dormitory, nursing a blinding headache. Damn that witch. He was not going to do anything to her, just scare her a little. He still needed to keep up appearances. He groaned as he remembered her face as she announced her birthday. Merlin, Potter and the Weasel were idiots. No wonder she was upset. And she would never have thought she needed to remind them. Hermione Granger was indeed an interesting person, a person he had taken a great interest in for many years, but he would never, could never, admit to it. He shivered as he thought about the feral glint in her eyes before she hexed the seven bells out of him. Just when he thought the girl could not get any lovelier, she had a Slytherin side when slighted. As he lay back on his pillows, Draco made a decision. Tonight was the one night she would not run to Potter and Weasley if he told her how he felt. He grabbed a quill and wrote a quick note.

Hermione sat in her room, feeling utterly ridiculous. She had acted like a spoilt toddler. After all that happened in the past year, she had the nerve to be upset about something as frivolous as a birthday. She had been scolding herself for over an hour now. She felt invisible, hidden up in her private room. She was so glad of the privacy given to prefects. A sharp rapping at her window shattered her self deprecating soliloquy. A large owl was outside her window, a thick piece of parchment clutched in its beak. She opened the window, allowing the bitter wind to dry her tear filled eyes and bite her raw cheeks. She took the letter and gave the bird an affectionate stroke before closing the window again. She opened the letter slowly. She really did not want to read a whiney, badly written apology from Ron or Harry. She could not give a damn whether she spoke to them again. She was genuinely surprised to see beautiful script, rather than the usual scrawl of those two. The letter simply said:

_Please meet me at the Room of Requirement at midnight. _

Hermione folded the letter up. She decided there and then she would go. She did not care who invited her or why, but she was going.

Midnight came. Hermione stood, waiting. No-one arrived. She could feel tears pricking the corner of her eyes. Someone must have seen her spectacle that morning and decided to see how far she could be pushed before she blew the whole school up. She decided she would try and get inside the room, in case her mystery person was waiting for her. _I want to find out why I was asked to come here, I want to find out why I was asked to come here, I want to find out why I was asked to come here. _She could not have cared if it was another small 'fan' or a rouge Death Eater after revenge. Either way she was going to cause someone some damage and she relished the thought. The door opened, but not in its usual way. The stone seemed to liquefy and become curtains, which were pulled back for her. She stepped gingerly through and felt her simple school uniform lengthen and pull tighter. Hermione looked down and gasped. She was wearing a full length ball gown, made of grey silk that pulled tightly over her curves. She felt glamorous, a feeling she had never experienced. In front of her was a huge gilt framed mirror. She could barely breathe as she drank in her appearance. The room had charmed her full outfit – the dress was just the start. Diamonds and pearls dripped from her ears and throat. Her hair was curled tightly on top of her head and her make up made her look completely different to her normal plain look. For once, she looked truly beautiful, dressed in a very 1920's style. She touched the mirror, to make sure it was really was her, but her hand fell through. The room where she had been transformed was small, decorated like a debutante's boudoir, and it was clear she was alone; she obviously had to go through the mirror.

Draco waited for Hermione's appearance. He really didn't believe she would follow an anonymous owl, but a part of him hoped. He nearly fainted when he saw her walk through the mirror. She was simply stunning. He pulled away from the light in the centre of the room. He still believed she would run if she saw who it was straight away.

Hermione's eyes widened as the colour faded from her vision. Every hint of blue or green or yellow seemed to be pulled into the mirror, the virulent red of her lips darkened to a deep grey. The room she had walked was simply variations of greys and blacks where colours normally prevailed, yet she could see where the colours should be. It was like she was seeing the world in black and white, like her favourite films. Magic crackled around her and she realised that was exactly the desired effect. The room was fabulously art-deco, with a large dance floor, with a spot-lit centre, dominating the room and plush, velvet covered seats around it's edge. Empty tables, sporting softly glowing lamps,stood out in the gloom, which made her feel very alone, but not in an unpleasant way. It was as if this huge ballroom had been cleared simply for her. At the far side there was a simple bar. She could hear soft strains of violin led music, even though the orchestra pit was completely empty. She was so engrossed in her surroundings, she did not notice the shadowy figure standing by the bar until he spoke to her.

"I heard you liked your Hitchcock classics and film noire. Excellent taste, not that I expected any less of you, Miss Granger" Hermione knew the man's voice but she could not place it. It was like black silk, dark and inviting. He walked towards to her, his face still in shadow, sending shivers down her spine. He was dressed elegantly, his white shirt the brightest point in the room. "They are the only muggle films I can bear to watch. Made before all of the special effects nonsense, when it was the power of the story and the skill of the actors that made the magic." His voice acquired a far-off quality, as if being close to her has some great power over him. The man stepped into the light, the blonde of his hair flashing in the light. Hermione lost all feeling in her body as tenderly, he reached out for her hand. She let him cover her hand in his soft hand, she was so captivated by those swirling silver eyes. Eyes that had not changed, despite the charmed black and white setting.

"Draco Malfoy?" She whispered, unable to coherently ask anything more.

"The one and only, my dear." He stepped closer, reaching out for her other hand. "I hate to spring this on you, Hermione, but right now there is very little stopping me from sweeping you into my arms and holding you close and possibly even dancing, if you will allow me to be so bold. I thought I should let you know, in case you decide to slap me again. Once bitten twice shy and all that" He smirked at her, eyes flashing as she held his hand tighter. An unspoken apology for the past, from both of them.

Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing as the boy she thought hated her did as he promised. She could smell the musk that clung to his shirt as he pulled her close to him and moved them out onto the dance floor. The violins began to play louder as they danced. Hermione had never felt as graceful as he swept her across the marble floor.

"Why am I here Draco?" She asked when they paused in the centre of the floor for breath. His first name fell from her lips, the first time in five years she had used it.

"Because, unbeknown to the world, I have been harbouring a secret, Miss Granger. That secret is I am hopelessly in love with you. And I thought tonight, you would be…" he searched for the words "less inclined to run off to Potter and the Weasel should I bare my soul to you" They began to dance again and he lent closer to her. "Ridiculous, isn't it?" He whispered into her ear.

Hermione smiled at him and he smiled back. A genuine smile, no trace of that smirk. Of course the arrogance was still there, but that was what had always attracted Hermione to him and he would not be complete without it.

"It's not that ridiculous." She murmured as she lay her head on his shoulder.

"Really? Well, do tell me something to beat me."

"Simple. The ridiculous thing is I feel the same way and I would not dream of letting Harry and Ron know, in case they locked me up for my own safety." She gazed into his eyes and gave him a sultry smile she had never known she was capable of. "You were always easy to beat."

He dropped her into a low dip, smirking at her gasp of surprise. "Be careful, Granger. I might be in love with you, but I won't be letting you win at anything." He lifted her back up, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

The continued to slow dance in the dark light of film noire, losing all sense of time. They felt no need to talk, it was more enough just to be there together. Song after song ended, but they continued. A truly beautiful song came to a close and their eyes met. Draco lent in and softly kissed Hermione. Magic seemed to fill the room as they both moved in, kissing each other passionately, trying to make up for the years they had been too scared to be together. The violins reached a beautiful crescendo as they finally pulled apart, positively glowing.

"This has been some enchanted evening, Draco."

"Indeed it has Hermione." She felt her pulse race, even though he had simply said her name. "I wish I could add in a song title, but it would make everything seem so contrived." He smirked at the beautiful angel in his arms. Hermione rolled her eyes at him, but still smiled at him, until a stray thought froze her thoughts. She bit her lip and looked away.

"What's wrong?" The concern that filled Draco's voice was heart breaking.

"Oh, nothing." She still couldn't look at him.

"Hermione." His voice was stern but gentle as her cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. Tears were beginning to well in her eyes as she looked at him.

"Will it just be tonight?"

"It will be as long as you can put up with me."

She met his eyes and saw nothing but molten silver that pleaded with her to ask for him to stay forever. She wrapped her arms around his neck, twisting his blonde hair around her fingers, and pulled him in for another kiss, deep and tender.

"I take it that's an invitation for a lot longer than just tonight then, Granger?"

"Shut up and dance with me, Malfoy."

"With pleasure. And by the way, happy birthday my dear." He swept her into his arms once more and they danced to the hidden orchestra until late into the morning.


End file.
